She thanked him politely then, without asking permission, spilled the contents of the sack across the office counter. She sorted through the mail quickly. There was nothing there from Richard Ammon.
The manager noticed her shoulders slump. Whatever she was looking for, it obviously was not there. Jesse made no attempt to hide her disappointment, but the manager didn’t offer any encouragement. After all, what could he say? He didn’t want to be too nosy. Besides, he had already gone through her mail. He knew it was nothing but junk and bills. Nothing to get excited about.
Jesse gathered the mail up and dropped it in the paper sack, then stuffed the sack under her arm. She turned around to leave, hesitating for a moment while she thought. Finally, she faced the manager once again.
“I guess I’ll be out of town for a few more days,” she said in a quiet voice, not really looking at the man as she spoke. “Would you mind collecting my mail again? I know it’s a bother, but I really would appreciate it.”
“No problem, Miss Morrel,” he replied. “Anything else I can do to help?”
Jesse shook her head and gave the sack back to him, then turned and walked out of his office. The manager wondered for just a moment why she was leaving town again, then decided it was none of his business. He was about to return to “The Price Is Right,” when he suddenly remembered.
“Miss Morrel,” he called out after her. Jesse stopped at the door and turned around. “While you’re here, would you mind if I come with you into your apartment? We are taking an inventory of all the appliances, and I need to get the serial number off of your stove and fridge.”
“Oh ... huh, sure, no problem,” Jesse responded, already lost in her thoughts.
Outside Jesse’s apartment complex, a gray Toyota pulled in and parked, taking up two parking spaces right next to the dumpster. The middle-aged couple got out and made their way to Jesse’s apartment. The woman carried a black, heavy purse. The man finished his cigarette as they walked, then flipped the butt into the gutter. They didn’t hesitate or wander through the maze of identical buildings. They knew where they were going. They had been to Jesse’s apartment before.
As they rounded the corner of her apartment building, Clyde and Nadine were a little surprised to see Jesse walking toward them. They both recognized her immediately. They had spent hours studying dozens of pictures of her.
But Jesse was not alone. At her side was a short, chubby man dressed in black slacks and a white shirt. The man hopped and skipped along beside her in an effort to keep up with her. As Jesse and the apartment manager approached, neither Clyde nor Nadine said a word. They looked at each other to avoid making eye contact with the girl and didn’t slow their pace. Clyde grunted under his breath and Nadine sniffled in reply as they wordlessly communicated their decision. Without hesitation, they passed by the sidewalk that cut off to Jesse’s apartment and continued down the path that led to the next building, where they quickly disappeared from view.
As Jesse and the manager walked up to Jesse’s apartment, Jesse pulled out a large set of keys. She sorted through the keys slowly, trying to find the right one, while the manager waited patiently by her side. Finally she separated one key from the others, inserted it into the lock and opened the door. Jesse hesitated, then motioned for the manager to follow her inside.
It only took a moment for the manager to get the information and serial numbers that he needed. While he did his work, Jesse waited patiently by the front door. Five minutes after he had entered the apartment, the manager was gone. Jesse didn’t take long to follow.
She picked up her duffel bag and purse. Inside the bag, she had everything she would need, so there was no sense in waiting around.
Twenty minutes later, Jesse was leaving the gray air of the L.A. basin. She drove northeast along highway 15, up through the San Gabriel Mountains and on to the high desert plains. This road would eventually take her to Las Vegas. But she wouldn’t stop there. Instead, she would continue to drive for another fifteen miles, until she reached Nellis Air Force base, which lay just east of the glittering lights of the city.
Jesse drove quickly through the desert. The dry miles went by in a monotonous blur. She set her cruise control on sixty-nine miles per hour until she crossed the Nevada state line, then pushed the speed up to seventy-four. Traffic was light. She didn’t pay much attention to her driving, and she never noticed the gray Toyota that flickered in and out of her rearview mirror.
THIRTEEN
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NELLIS AIR FORCE BASE, NEVADA
ALTHOUGH SHE HAD THE ARTICLE PRACTICALLY MEMORIZED, JESSE READ the tiny news item one more time, carefully mulling over each word.
KOREAN FIGHTER LOST IN YELLOW SEA
By Steven Little, Air Force Times
Osan Air Force Base, Korea, - The Fifty-First Fighter Wing lost its second F-16 of the year late Wednesday night when a Fighting Falcon abruptly burst into flames and exploded over the Yellow Sea. The pilot, Captain Richard Ammon, was attempting to air refuel with a KC-135 from Kadina AFB, Japan, when the incident occurred.
Despite an intensive search and rescue effort, the downed pilot was never recovered. Late Thursday morning, rescue forces retrieved a life raft that was floating near the crash site. Further rescue efforts were called off when investigators confirmed the raft was from the missing F-16. According to Air Force spokesman Lt Jason White, the accident investigation board is focusing on the possibility of a fuel leak that may have occurred during air refueling. However, he conceded that, due to the lack of physical evidence, plus the fact that pieces of the wreckage were unlikely to ever be recovered, the Air Force may never fully understand what caused the downing of the F -16.
A final accident investigation report is due within thirty days. Meanwhile, the Fifty-First Fighter Wing continues to fly a normal schedule.
Jesse carefully tore the article out of the Air Force Times and placed it inside her purse. She stared at the hole that she had torn in the center of the newspaper, then pushed her finger through the two inch opening and out the other side. Too many holes, she thought. There arc too many holes in my life.
She was sitting in a small study cubicle in the library at Nellis Air Force Base. The library was small and silent, with only a few airmen quietly studying for their upcoming promotion tests. The metal building occasionally vibrated and rumbled as combat aircraft took off on the runway that was located just one mile away. For the last two days, Jesse had spent most of her time here, scanning all of the publications that she felt might carry the news of any aircraft accident that happened overseas. Then, on the second day, as evening shadows were forming outside, she finally found what she had been searching for.
The article confirmed what Richard had already told her. It was what she had expected from the day he called and left her the code. No one else would ever believe that, but Jesse knew it was true. She had already accepted his disappearance with at least some degree of inner assurance. Someday he would return. He had promised her he would, and she believed him. Of all the people in the world, Jesse trusted Richard the most.
Now the only question left was, what she should do now? She considered for only a moment, then realized she didn’t have much of a choice. She would wait. That’s all she could do. She would go back to the cabin and wait. At least for a few more days. She really didn’t have any choice.
Jesse picked up her purse and thanked the librarian who had been so helpful, then hastily walked out of the lonely building. As she made her way through the parking lot, she heard an awesome thunder. Looking up into the sky, she saw two F-16s taking off into the evening’s darkness, their wing tips almost touching as they flew in tight formation. Their afterburners spewed a hot blue flame behind them as they quickly climbed and turned out toward the north. Ten seconds later, they were followed by two more F-16s. It only took a moment for the four fighters to climb and disappear. Jesse stood and watched them a
s they faded into the darkness, thinking all the time of Richard Ammon. She pictured him inside one of the fighters, his broad shoulders cramped in the tight cockpit, smiling from the pure joy of flight. As she watched the lights from the fighters blend into the starry night sky, she missed him even more. She turned and walked quickly toward her car.
Passing by an old gray Toyota, she heard a voice. The window was rolled down, and a man stuck out his head. “Excuse me, ma’am, can you help me?” he asked. She studied the man for a moment, then cautiously answered.
“What can I do for you?”
Jesse shivered as she looked into the man’s eyes. They seemed to stare right through her. She quickly glanced around. By now it was completely dark. The tall lamppost cast dim shadows through the empty parking lot. She glanced toward the library. Not another soul in sight. Jesse’s instincts kicked into high gear. She hadn’t spent the past ten years in southern California without developing an acute sense of imminent danger. And right then, her instincts were very clear. Something was not right about this man.
“I’m looking for one of the fighter squadrons,” the man continued. “An old friend of mine works there. Can you tell me how to get to the F-16 fighter building?”
“I’m new to base myself,” Jesse answered cautiously. “Perhaps the security police can help you.” The man watched Jesse very closely.
“Yeah, but if you could just show me where we are, then I could probably find it myself.” Clyde said, pointing to a map he had laid out across the steering wheel of his car. Jesse didn’t move. Clyde shifted anxiously in his seat. It wasn’t working. He swore at her under his breath as he caught a whiff of the soaking rag of chloroform that lay in the seat next to him. He glanced across the parking lot to the blue sedan where Nadine sat watching. He was growing anxious. His eyes darted around. He could be patient, but only for so long.
Jesse took a step away from his car. “I don’t think I can help you. As I said, it’s my first time on base.”
The man grunted. Jesse turned and briskly walked away. Heading back toward the library, she jumped up the flight of stairs, taking them three at a time. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the man’s Toyota start to pull away with a kick and sputter. As she pulled on the thick glass doors, she knew he was gone.
Jesse waited in the library, watching the parking lot carefully for any signs of the old gray car. She didn’t know why. She shouldn’t have been so suspicious. But over the years she had learned to trust her instincts, and so didn’t consider it wasting her time.
llalf an hour later, she walked quickly to her car and climbed in, locking all of the doors before even starting the engine. Pulling out of the parking lot, she maneuvered onto the main boulevard that would lead her off base, merged with the traffic, and headed north on Las Vegas Boulevard.
Weaving in the traffic behind her, in a rented blue sedan, was Nadine. She always stayed at least three cars behind the red Mazda, leaving her enough time to change lanes and follow Jesse off the main highway if her target ever turned. Steering with her left hand, she reached down onto the seat and picked up a cellular phone.
“I’ve got her,” she said when Clyde answered.
“Where are you?”
“I’m heading north on Las Vegas Boulevard.”
“Okay, I’m about five blocks behind you. Don’t lose her. I’m getting tired of chasing this wench!”
Nadine only grunted in reply.
They followed her all through the night, always keeping their distance, stopping in the shadows when she pulled over for gas, all the time expecting her to turn back toward L.A., or check into some hotel. But she didn’t. Instead she headed north, toward central California. By early morning, she was passing through the town of Lone Pine. Nadine followed her as she turned off the main highway and onto a small dirt road that headed off into the pine-covered foot hills that lay at the base of the Inyo mountains. Once Jesse turned off the main highway, Nadine didn’t follow her any further. She didn’t need to. She knew the road couldn’t go very far back into the forest. She knew what Jesse was driving. She knew they could find her.
FOURTEEN
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LONE PINE, CALIFORNIA
THE NIGHT AFTER SHE GOT BACK TO THE CABIN, JESSE STAYED UP AND read until after midnight, then finally forced herself to bed. Several hours later, she awoke with a start. It was very dark. The cabin floors creaked and moaned from the wind. She glanced at the digital clock next to her bed. It was blank. The power must be out, she thought. Funny, there hadn’t been a storm. She rolled off the mattress and set her feet onto the bare floor. It was very cold. The gas furnace needed starting.
Then she heard it.
Her heart jumped into her throat. Every muscle in her body grew tense. Her heart beat like a hammer as she peered desperatcly into the darkness.
Then she heard it again.
Voices.
The hushed sound of whispering voices. And footsteps. Muffled footsteps. Very close. From inside the cabin! From outside her door! Her hands involuntarily shot to her mouth as she stifled a scream. The footsteps tapped once again. Measured, careful footsteps. Then silence. The only sound was the blood pumping in her head. It beat in her ears. It smashed in her brain.
The footsteps were right outside her door!
A gentle night breeze blew outside the cabin window as the mountain air raced to the valley floor. Her window shuddered against the breeze. A pine cone dropped on the cabin’s roof and rolled down the eaves, pattering lightly as it fell.
Someone was there! She could hear them! They were right outside her door!
Jesse looked to the window. Twelve feet away. Maybe she could make it. Slowly, carefully, she lifted herself off of the bed.
The door burst open. Flying backward, it slammed against the wall. Jesse screamed in the darkness. At what, she didn’t know. She couldn’t see. It was so dark!
A bright flashlight beamed through the open doorway. The man from the gray Toyota stormed into the room. Jesse screamed again and pushed herself up against the bedroom wall, the rough logs cutting into the soft skin of her back. The man walked toward her, rope in hand, gun in his belt. The flashlight beamed directly on Jesse, spotlighting her like some kind of trapped animal. She pushed herself away from the wall and tried to run, but tripped and fell to her knees. The man was on top of her in less than an instant, his hands wrapping tightly around her thin neck. Jesse closed her eyes and started to cry.
Clyde pinned her against the wood floor while he pulled both of her arms behind her back and shoved them up toward her neck. Jesse felt a tearing pain which sucked the air from her lungs. She knew he would kill her. She thought she was dead.
Jesse felt the rope twist around her wrists and fingers. Nadine held the flashlight so that Clyde could see what he was doing. He circled her wrists and knotted the rope, then sat back with a huff.
“Go out and turn the power back on,” Clyde directed Nadine as he stood up and pulled Jesse to her feet. “And bring the extra rope from the car.” Nadine turned and walked out of the room.
Within half an hour, they had unloaded the car and hidden it in back of the cabin. Clyde made certain the place was secure, then after some discussion, they decided to leave Jesse in the second bedroom. Clyde threw her onto the bed and tied her up, then nailed the shutters closed and draped a thick quilt over the window to block out the light. He knew that the constant darkness would leave her disoriented and confused and make it that much more difficult to think of escape.
Then he and Nadine settled in for the wait. They would stay up here in the cabin, keeping a watch on the girl. They would wait until they heard from their client. Then they would do what he told them to do.
Jesse lay in the darkness, listening, her eyes tightly closed. Though she wasn’t tied up anymore, she didn’t dare move. She hardly even dared breathe. A thin blanket had been stretched across her body, but it left her bare feet ex
posed, and she was icy cold. Time went by. The cabin was very quiet. Perhaps it was night, and they were asleep. After what seemed like a very long time, Jesse pulled her feet inside the blanket, then curled up into a little ball.
The skin around her ankles and wrists had been rubbed raw from the rough nylon ropes. The tender flesh burned and the nerves flashed in pain. Her wrists, which had taken the. worst abuse, oozed tiny drops of blood and clear moisture from the open sores. Purple blotches covered the tops of her feet from the broken blood vessels, a result of the blood flow having been cut off by the tightly cinched ropes.
She shivered again under the thin cotton blanket and tried to think. How long had it been since she had been taken captive? She did not know. Five or six days. Maybe less. Maybe more. She had lost all sense of time. As she lay in the darkness, she was only aware of two things-the terrible pain and the fear.
The door opened a crack. Light filtered into the room. Jesse nearly quit breathing. Despite a violent shiver that ran down her spine, she lay perfectly still. The footsteps moved ever closer. She wanted to cry-cry like a little girl.
“How’s the girl?” came the voice from the bathroom.
The man studied her face for a few seconds before he answered. “She hasn’t moved in the past ten hours,” he finally said.
The man paused as he hovered over the bed. He bent down toward her, studying her closed eyes, watching her breathing. He glanced at the open sores around her wrists.
“She’s awake though,” he called out after a while. “I guess she wants to ignore me.” He reached into his pocket and produced a shiny gold lighter and unfiltered cigarette which he lit with a flip of his wrist.
He walked to the window and studied the thick wooden shutters that covered the double-paned glass. He had used three two-by-fours to nail the shutters closed. He grabbed the thick boards and pulled at them, checking to make sure they were still secure.
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